


The best thing that you've ever had

by ExitZero



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Slow Burn, angsty but cute, like very slow lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-13 03:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20575817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExitZero/pseuds/ExitZero
Summary: Blossoms were never to have soulmates. That was the curse. No anomalies, no exceptions.Perhaps that’s why Jason’s body had turned up on the banks of Sweetwater River just a week after his kiss with Polly Cooper, with the Blossom ring in his pocket and a bullet hole in his forehead. He’d tried to outrun fate and had made it farther than anyone else in the family who’d even dared to try, but fate had caught up with him in the end. Fate had had the last word. It always did.And, unfortunately for Toni Topaz, Cheryl Blossom had already inexorably and unbudgingly accepted her fate by the time the Southside Serpents had shown up to Riverdale High.or, soulmate fic where everything is black and white until you kiss your soulmate





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic ive written in a long ass time, so it might be a bit rusty at first. ive had this idea for a while but only got to writing it now because i dislocated my knee and have nothing else to do lol. basically this is a soulmates fic where everything is black and white until you kiss your soulmate for the first time, after which you see everything in color. as far as whats canon in this universe, just consider everything before episode 1 of season 1 canon (so jason's still dead and her parents are still shitty). im not sure to what extent this fic will follow the show's storylines yet, i sorta just started writing without thinking ahead, so we'll see how this goes :)

They say her hair is red. They say it burns like the billowing flames of a blazing fire, that it bursts like blood from a fresh wound.

Cheryl wouldn’t know. She’s never seen it.

As a matter of fact, neither can the rest of the Blossoms. Not a single one ever has. Cheryl finds it quite ironic, how the Blossoms' signature feature is something they have never seen.

And never will, her mother always hissed.

Cheryl pretended that the words didn’t sting, even after all this time. Pretended that she, like the rest of her family, remained unbothered by this depressing reality.

She didn’t.

The only thing that stung worse than the words was that, since the beginning of the Blossom’s family history, they were true.

Cheryl had never asked her parents whether they were soulmates. Even a blind man could tell that there was no love lost between them. Clifford and Penelope Blossom had married for purely business-related reasons, just as every Blossom before them had done. As Jason was expected to do. As Cheryl was expected to do.

The townspeople called it the Blossom curse. A local legend started decades ago, likely by teens, or perhaps even the Blossoms themselves. As punishment for centuries of cruel and inhumane deeds, not a single member of the Blossom family would ever find their soulmate, or would ever even have a soulmate.

It was thought of to be a punishment for the worst of the worst, something that only a family as truly evil as the Blossoms would ever have to suffer.

Cheryl agreed. Her family was rotten to the core.

For all of her intellect, her clear sense of logic and reason, Cheryl could not rid herself of the belief that the Blossom curse truly existed. She felt foolish even considering the notion that a curse, something present solely in the fantasy worlds found inside children’s books, could possibly exist, and yet she couldn’t help but believe it. Because why else would no one in her family know how to love? Why else would no one in her family ever felt even a shred of love towards another, for another, with another?

Jason didn’t believe in the curse. He was the only one who didn’t, or perhaps the only one who cared enough to say so. Though he’d never say so in front of his parents, who would be furious at the idea, he’d spent countless nights trying to convince Cheryl of its non-existence, insisting there were soulmates for both of them somewhere out in the world.

“We’re good people, you and I,” he’d always say. “We deserve to feel love, regardless of our ancestors’ mistakes. The universe knows that.”

But, as much as she wished she could, Cheryl had never believed his words. She could feel the heavy weight of the Blossom curse weighing down on her shoulders, a burden she’d been carrying and would be carrying for her entire life.

Why else wouldn’t Cheryl’s soulmate have come to sweep her off her feet and whisking her away from the haunted mansion of Thornhill, into a life of happiness and light and promises and love?

There just wasn’t any other explanation. So Cheryl resigned herself to the fact that the only kind of love she would ever know is brotherly. Love from her brother Jason, the only person on this earth that genuinely cared for her. And Cheryl was grateful for him, for his love, but it could never replicate the fireworks that one feels when kissing their better half. She’d never know that kind of love. Of this she was certain.

Until she wasn’t.

It was early July, and Cheryl was draped leisurely across a lounge chair at the edge of the manor’s pool reading a novel when Jason had come bounding up to her, a smile so wide it threatened to burst and a sparkle in his eyes that Cheryl had never seen in them before.

“Cheryl!” he gasped, coming to a stop in front of her, eyes widening as he took in the sight of her, causing her eyebrow to quirk up in question.

“What is it, dearest brother?” she inquired. He sat next to her, reaching out to catch a strand of Cheryl’s hair, staring at it in awe.

“Jason?” she pressed, setting down the book and pushing her sunglasses onto her head.

“I can see why everyone’s so obsessed with our hair. The color is beautiful.” He gazed at the strand for a second longer before dropping it, eyes meeting Cheryl’s with an expectant look.

She stared back at him uncomprehendingly, brows furrowed in confusion. “The color…” she said, trailing off as the impact of his words hit her full force. “You can… you can see them?”

He nodded excitedly. “All of them.” Cheryl gasps, her hand flying up to cover her mouth dramatically. “Jason...you…” she sputtered, rendered speechless for what must be the first time in her life. He leaned forward, gripping her hands in his. “I can see them.” She nodded, her head beginning to spin as a tidal wave of emotions overwhelmed her.

“Who is it?” she whispered faintly, and Jason’s smile dropped for the first time since arriving.

“It’s… it’s Polly. Polly Cooper. I know you’re not exactly her biggest fan, Cheryl, but I promise you, once you get to really know her you’re gonna love-” his voice cut off as Cheryl’s body collided with his, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered as he squeezed her tightly.

“See, what did I tell you? The Blossom curse’s been bullshit all along.” He pulled back and grasped Cheryl’s shoulders, looking at her with pure happiness shining in his eyes. “You know what this means, don’t you? If there’s someone out there for me, there’s someone for you, too.”

Cheryl couldn’t help the tears running down her face, her voice wavering as she asked “You really think so?”

He nodded, not a shred of insincerity in his expression as he pulled her back in for another hug. “I do.”

She buried her face into his shoulder, overcome with emotion as she felt the weight of the curse she’d been carrying her whole life lift off her shoulders. As, for the first time, she allowed herself to feel hope.

But curses are a fickle thing. They can’t be broken or bypassed or hidden from.

Blossoms were never to have soulmates. That was the curse. No anomalies, no exceptions.

Perhaps that’s why Jason’s body had turned up on the banks of Sweetwater River just a week after his kiss with Polly Cooper, with the Blossom ring in his pocket and a bullet hole in his forehead. He’d tried to outrun fate and had made it farther than anyone else in the family who’d even dared to try, but fate had caught up with him in the end. Fate had had the last word. It always did.

And, unfortunately for Toni Topaz, Cheryl Blossom had already inexorably and unbudgingly accepted her fate by the time the Southside Serpents had shown up to Riverdale High.


	2. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah uh sorry this took so long, i missed a few days of school due to surgery and have been crazy busy trying to catch up. anyways, this chapter is longer than the last one. hope yall enjoy

Cheryl Blossom disliked the idea of friendship. More than that, she didn't understand it.

She couldn't seem to find the merit in it, couldn't figure out why, in a world where soulmates existed, anyone would ever feel the need to emotionally connect with more than one person. 

Why spend precious time energy struggling to build a bond with someone that is surely not going to withstand the passage of time when there exists a person that will stay willingly by your side for the entirety of your life? 

Why spend time with someone knowing that they’d rather be spending time with that very person and is most likely counting down the seconds until the can?

Why allow yourself to become close to someone knowing that you’ll never be their first choice, that there either already is or eventually will be someone that outranks you?

Cheryl didn’t get it. She thought it was absurd. That was all there was to it.

But, of course, that wasn’t.

Deep down, buried beneath, lied the truth. 

She understood it perfectly. She craved it immensely. But she couldn’t allow herself to admit it.

Maybe it stemmed from the fact that Cheryl Blossom had never had a single, genuine friend, someone who had willingly struck up a conversation and decided that there was something about her worth connecting to.

Maybe it was because, no matter how hard she tried, Cheryl couldn't seem to be that person for anyone, and she hadn't a clue as to how. 

Maybe the idea that she’d always be, at the very best, the second choice to anyone she would befriend, when all she had ever wanted was to be the first, hurt enough that she decided it wasn't even worth the effort. 

The truth was, it was all three of those things.

She’d thought she had felt the presence of friendship once, in the form of New Girl Veronica Lodge, as she had been at the start of their junior year. Her bold attitude and signature white pearls had intrigued Cheryl. And she couldn't deny she found Veronica to be exceptionally attractive.

So, after much friction between the two, Cheryl decided to accept the olive branch that Veronica extended and invited her to spend the night at Thornhill. It was then they learned that they shared something in common: both of them still saw the world in black and white.

It shouldn't have been as surprising as it was, but Cheryl had assumed that someone as beautiful and extroverted as Veronica would have snatched up some rich dreamboat back in New York. And in a town as small as Riverdale, where people were finding their soulmates left and right, it was a comforting realization. One that was enough for Veronica to accept the next invitation to sleepover.

Looking back, Cheryl knew that what she and Veronica shared hadn’t been friendship, but an outlet for both of them to share their frustrations at the lack of love they had in their lives. Veronica never asked Cheryl how she was doing, never offered her kind words or actions, never did anything that a real friend would do. She’d simply sit silently while Cheryl voiced her complaints, then did the same with her own without even so much as acknowledging Cheryl had spoken.

Though it hadn’t been ideal, the arrangement had been enough for Cheryl. With Jason gone, she needed someone to talk to, even if they had no interest in what she was saying. She just needed someone. And Veronica was all she had.

That’s why it had hurt so much the day that had Veronica walked into school wrapped around Archie Andrews’s side, that same sparkle in her eyes that had been in Jason’s.

Cheryl knew what it meant, even before Veronica pulled Archie close and pressed her lips to his with a passion that could only mean one thing. 

She knew that it signified the end to their tentative relationship, now that the only thing they shared in common was gone. That still hadn’t stopped her from trying to maintain it.

As it turned out, Veronica Lodge wanted nothing to do with her now that the sole purpose Cheryl had served in her life was no longer needed. She ignored Cheryl’s phone calls, avoided eye contact in the hallways, and always sat at the opposite end of Cheryl in whatever classes they shared together. It was juvenile, but eventually Cheryl got the message. 

She was no longer the first choice. She wasn’t even a choice at all. 

She didn’t have anything to offer to Veronica that would make her stay, possessed nothing that was worth connecting to. 

Whether it was the Blossom Curse sabotaging any chance she had at love, even platonic, or it was purely her own unlikability that was to blame, Cheryl didn’t know.  She wasn’t sure which would hurt more.

All she knew was that it hurt differently than the last time someone left her.  It felt different than when she’d lost Jason.

It didn’t hurt as badly. Nothing ever would. But knowing that Jason had been forced to leave her, while Veronica had chosen to brought about a new kind of pain, one that caused her not only to question what had been so flawed in her relationship with Veronica, but what was so deeply flawed in herself. Why Veronica had so quickly been able to not only make other friends but find her soulmate as well, while Cheryl was still desperately alone. What Cheryl had done so wrong that Veronica, despite knowing that the one thing that would hurt her the most was leaving, had done that very thing without hesitation. 

She never reached an answer, only a realization.

People couldn’t leave if she didn’t allow them to stay. People couldn’t strike her where it hurt most if she never allowed them to find where it did.

But she was a Blossom. She couldn’t allow herself to appear lonely and pathetic, both for the sake of her own dignity and for her family's.

Cheryl despised her parents, but if there was one thing she had learned from them, power outranked everything else.  _ Especially love. _

The decision to appoint herself as Riverdale High’s HBIC came quite easily after that. It wasn’t love, but it was power. Something that was attainable. Something she understood. Something her parents would approve of.

And that was that. She began keeping everyone at an arm’s length. She strode down the hallways with outfits that demanded the attention of every eye in the school and an attitude that commanded that they take several steps back. She established her position through venomous insults and vicious schemes. 

She was the HBIC. She didn’t need friends. She didn’t need anyone. She had power. Respect. Fear. She told herself this so many times she began to forget she didn’t believe it.

If anyone asked her why she possessed such a distaste for it all, she’d roll her eyes in annoyance before spitting out in typical Cheryl fashion, “I simply fail to see the benefit in voluntarily bonding with someone who will, no doubt, quickly find a way to irritate me enough that I’d have to put an end to the friendship before it even truly begins. I mean,” followed by a flip of her hair and an arrogant smirk spreading onto her face, “Why on earth would I torture myself by spending time with any of you mindless halfwits when I could be treating myself to the company of someone who outranks you all in every category?” She’d finish with a hand placed to her chest, making sure to drive the point home that she was referring to  _ herself _ .

If anyone asked, that’s what she would say. That’s all there was to it.

Not that anyone ever asked.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

“Friends!”

Cheryl raises her head from her book at the sound of Veronica’s voice cutting through the previously silent student lounge. She and Archie make their way into the room and sit down on the couch opposite to Betty and Jughead, who have been obsessively whispering to each other about some no doubt boring mystery that Cheryl has no interest in. Though not interested in the slightest about Veronica’s announcement, as self-appointed HBIC, Cheryl’s considers it a necessity to know everyone’s business; it’s proven to be endlessly effective in keeping the student body respectfully afraid of her. 

“Seeing as it’s a Friday night and with the arrival of winter, we’re finally being blessed with a reprieve from cheerleading,” she says, shooting Betty a quick grin, “And football. she continues with a fond ruffle of Archie’s hair, “I was thinking we should take a night trip into the city put our recently acquired fake IDs to the test!”

She pulls out her phone, quickly tapping before turning it around to show the others. “There’s this new club that just opened up a block from my old apartment and I’ve heard it’s amazing.”

This piques Cheryl's interest. She sets her novel down and leans closer to catch a glimpse of the phone, her presence still going unnoticed by the rest of the group as she admits to herself, despite her reservations with Veronica, how fun of a night it was sure to be. 

And no, Cheryl Blossom does not want friends, and she’s certainly not trying to make them, but it’s a Friday night and she has no other plans, and god does it get lonely in the den of shadows that is Thornhill, with no one but a senile old grandmother willing to keep her company. 

Before any of the others can reply, Cheryl clears her throat and announces “Count me in! I’ve been dying to find a venue lavish enough to be worthy of my presence, and this one looks  _ particularly _ expensive.” 

They all turn to look at her in surprise, with expressions ranging from slightly uncomfortable to downright irritated. Cheryl stares back, her signature smirk plastered to her face with a hint of fire in her eyes, daring one of them to argue and risk suffering her wrath. 

Betty, Jughead, and Archie all turn their gazes towards the floor, and Cheryl smirk widens, thinking she’s victorious, when Veronica speaks up.

“Sorry, Cheryl, it’s sort of a...soulmates only place,” her tone dripping with false sympathy. To Cheryl’s disappointment, the excuse is a valid one; plenty of dining locations allowed only those with their soulmates accompanying them, so they could enjoy their night without having to be hit on or flirted with. Cheryl internally debates whether or not to suggest (and by suggest, she means  _ demand _ ) they change the venue but before she can say anything, Veronica continues with a bright smile.

“I’d love for you to join us but unless you can find a soulmate by tonight...” she chuckles, and though her tone is lighthearted, Cheryl can easily hear the intentional underlying cruelty in her words

And it stings. Despite their falling out, Veronica knows better than anyone how sensitive the topic is to her, and going so far as to joke about it in front of other people…

It hurts. 

But Cheryl will be damned if she lets anyone in this godforsaken school see that, so she stands up with a bright smile still present on her face and hoists her backpack around her shoulders. “No worries, Veronica! Fortunately, I have an endless amount of companions that will be delighted to be informed of my availability, so I hope you all have a wonderful time together.” She turns and quickly walks out of the room, feeling a slight stab in her heart as she hears the group let out relieved sighs behind her. 

Though her free period doesn’t end for another five minutes, she decides to arrive to class early and review her notes (HBIC or not, she takes her education incredibly seriously. But fate must be particularly against her today, as she realizes halfway down the hall that she had left her novel in the lounge, and while normally she wouldn’t subject herself to the embarrassment of returning to a room she had exited dramatically out of no less than thirty seconds ago, the book is required for her next class, and the day has already been bad enough without a teacher scolding her from unpreparedness.

With a sigh, Cheryl begins making her way back to the lounge, pausing in the threshold when she hears her name mentioned amidst harsh whispering. She takes a step into the room quietly and leans against the vending machine, only having to search for a couple of seconds before identifying the speaker. 

Veronica is leaning forward towards Betty and Jughead and speaking in a low tone, but her words still carry across the room loud and clear. 

“- and she’s such a bitch. Like, who the hell just invites themselves into plans like that? And acting like she has a thousand friends just dying to spend time with her,” Veronica rolls her eyes with a scoff. “Please, as if anyone would ever want to be friends with that she-demon. I don’t know how I tolerated her for as long as I did-”

It’s all Cheryl can stand to hear. She turns and practically bolts from the room, accidentally knocking into a girl serpent in her haste. Her eyes begin to blur with tears as her feet move on autopilot towards the place she’d spent countless days crying after Jason’s death. She shoves the locker room door open and presses a hand over her eyes, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay. Crossing to the corner of the room, she slumps to the floor and pulls her knees to her chest, sobs beginning to wrack her body as Veronica’s words echo in her head.

She knows that being the HBIC doesn’t come without a price, that it was bound to have a partially negative effect on her classmates’ perception of her. But to hear it stated so plainly, so  _ harshly _ , from someone that, despite their patchy history, knew underneath the bitchy facade was a broken, lonely girl.

It hurts.

Not only to hear, but to realize that all the effort Cheryl has put into being untouchable, all the loneliness she’s endured to prevent herself from ever being hurt again was all for nothing.

Just a few simple words and her walls are already breaking down.

_ As if anyone would ever want to be friends with her… _

Her sobs grow louder and she fails to register the sound of the locker room door opening and light footsteps entering the room. She only becomes aware of the presence when she hears a tentative voice. “Oh, hey…”

Cheryl jumps slightly but keeps her head buried firmly in her knees, hoping the girl somehow won’t recognize her and will get the hint that she wants to be left alone at her lack of response.

But fate must be particularly against her today because the sound of footsteps gets closer until the girl drops her bag down and takes a seat on the bench right in front of her. Cheryl keeps her head down, resisting the temptation to meet the eyes she feels burning on her.

“Are you okay?” the voice asks gently, and Cheryl wants to scoff because she’s alone and crying in the girls' locker room in the middle of the day,  _ of course she’s not okay- _

“I heard what Veronica was saying about you. In the lounge.” Cheryl freezes. She can’t imagine what the girl is going to say next, perhaps that she agrees with Veronica, or has her own opinions on Cheryl she’d like to share. She can’t imagine it’d be anything else.

“That was really shitty of her. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” 

The words are kind. They’re kind and they’re apologetic and they’re sympathetic and Cheryl can’t even imagine whose voice, one that Cheryl doesn’t recognize in the slightest, this must belong to, and the shock of a stranger showing her kindness after being deprived of it for so long is enough for her to overcome the temptation to remain hidden. So she raises her head-

  
And is met with the most beautiful eyes shes ever seen.

They remind Cheryl of a doe. Wide and innocent and gentle. They’re filled with warmth and tenderness, and are looking at Cheryl in a way that no one ever has before. In a way that makes her feel like something is melting inside.

_ God, she wishes she knew what color they were. _

It takes Cheryl a moment to realize that she’s staring, and she quickly lowers her gaze. The girl shifts before leaning towards her, and Cheryl can’t help the way her breath catches in her throat. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, slowly reaching her hand out as if to rest it on her gently, and for the second time in her life, Cheryl is rendered speechless. She’s at a complete loss for words. Because  _ yes _ that‘s what she wants, but she can’t even begin to guess why this girl wants to help her.  _ Yes _ it’s all she’s wanted for years now but she’s had her walls up for so long she doesn’t know how to bring them down.

She’s at a complete loss for words,  _ until _ her eyes land on the leather jacket resting beside her on the bench. 

The leather  _ Serpent _ jacket.

The sight of it is enough to shock Cheryl back into her HBIC facade, her walls building back up as she instinctively flinches away from the girl’s outstretched hand.   
  


The girl is a serpent. She’s a serpent, and Cheryl knows enough about the Serpents to know they are a violent, rowdy, and dimwitted bunch. That was something Cheryl had been taught not only by her parents but by her fellow Northsiders. The Serpents were considered by almost all at Riverdale High to be a blemish on their otherwise-perfect school, and Cheryl is no exception, so the idea that a Serpent was showing Cheryl kindness purely from the good of their heart-

It isn’t plausible. There must be some other motive at play, and the idea that Cheryl is showing vulnerability to someone with undoubtedly cruel intentions is enough for her to slap away the girl’s hand and spring to her feet.

“How dare you have the  _ audacity _ to lay your slimy hands on me,” she snaps. The girl’s eyes widen in surprise, and she too stands and places her hands in front of herself in a placating gesture. “I wasn’t-”

“And how dare you,” Cheryl interrupts “think you have the right to approach someone of such higher class being someone as bottom of the barrel as yourself.” The girl’s bewildered expression morphs into one of affrontment and Cheryl can’t ignore the pang in her chest at the way the gentleness disappears from her eyes and is quickly replaced with a steely glare.

And yes, Cheryl knows she’s taking things too far, that this girl isn’t the one who had hurt her, but Cheryl is upset and vulnerable and quite literally backed into a corner, and is protecting herself in the only way she knows how.

The girl folds her arms across her chest and straightens her posture. “Look, I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but I’m just trying to-” 

And yet again, Cheryl speaks over her. “My  _ problem _ is that being granted access to Riverdale High’s superior academics seemed to give you Serpent scum the impression that you exist on the same level of importance as us Northsiders.”

The girl audibly scoffs, eyebrow raising in indignation and Cheryl has no doubt she’s about to call her out on her pitiful attempt to deflect and remind her that they both full well know Cheryl’s problem has nothing to do with her and everything to do with Veronica Lodge. She decides not to give her the chance to do so, and pushes past the girl, scooping up her backpack and slinging it over her shoulders. She reaches the door and is halfway through it when she hears the girl behind her mutter, “No wonder you don't have any friends.”

She stops as, for the second time that day, the words impact her like a punch in the gut.

The impact hurts sting, just as bad as it had with Veronica, and Cheryl feels the tears beginning to build up behind her eyes again. She looks back at the girl, who’s shoving things into her locker with a scowl on her face, and feels a stab of regret knowing she was the one to put it there. Cheryl stands there for a second, and it’s only when the girl turns and makes eye contact that she unfreezes and steps into the hallway, the door slamming shut behind her. 

She takes a moment to collect herself, wipes the tears from her eyes, and tells herself to rid the harsh words from her mind. She can’t afford to break down again. She can’t show vulnerability. 

She can’t think about it, so instead, as she strides down the hall with all traces of emotion gone and her facade securely in place, she thinks about the way the girl had looked at her for that brief moment. She thinks about how the girl had asked her if she was okay, and had been willing to listen. She thinks about how that’s what it must be like to have a friend. 

And she thinks about how nice it was, in that brief moment, to feel like she had one.


End file.
